Hush
by jayilyse
Summary: It's here reading under this broken cork screw tree on top of a grassy knoll, with the last of light from sunset in the warm air, reading soundlessly as I steal glances at her fidgeting form, that I can simply bask in the emotions I hold for her. The first part to the Voices series on this site.
1. Aranea

I dislike silence.

It makes me uncomfortable, really. It's a simple fact. I hate keeping silent about my feelings especially. I wonder day in and day out if maybe I should say something – open my mouth and let every word that I want to be heard burst forth, beating hot air against many a day's cold breeze, if only for her to hear. Sometimes, I think that my talking turns her away from me, though. I do enjoy talking, even if it's more about not having stillness, as can be figured out from everyone telling me to be quiet. I /_can/_ actually be silent, contrary to popular belief. I am not unaware of my constant talking issue. However, it's not like she doesn't talk a lot either. People don't notice it when she's with me; she is always boasting about her gold and sticking fish puns everywhere she can. She oozes confidences from every pore, can't stop thinking about herself for one second, and all in all won't clam up. She doesn't even feel sorry for insensitive things she says to others until it's too late half the time.

Yet, for some reason, it's in the quiet that I can see how much I've really fallen for Meenah. It's here reading under this broken cork screw tree on top of a grassy knoll, with the last of light from sunset in the warm air, reading soundlessly as I steal glances at her fidgeting form, that I can simply bask in the emotions I hold for her. I've seen other people dealing with these emotions and it is tiring – the pining, the longing, the wishing, and hoping. However, it's kind of fun when someone feels it for themselves. /_Kind of_/. Meenah is still constantly changing positions. It's slightly distracting. She has always been squirmy; it makes me question why she does this with me every so often. I never ask her to. She simply follows me when I say I'm going to go read and stays with me. It's not her style; one can tell easily from her movement that she's aching to get up and do something. She must be bored doing nothing for an hour. Well, it doesn't matter, I suppose. It is always her decision to come with me or not.

It's been a long time since she's gotten into a fight with any of our friends. At times, it was like war within our own group – all because of her. But, she's calmed down a lot lately, with little to no instigation with the exception of teasing and triggering Kankri .Who doesn't trigger Kankri, though? Her bluntness leading to some situations aside, it's quite nice. Currently, the wind is picking up and flipping my pages back and forth. It'll be time to go soon. Meenah, I can see from the corner of my eye, has stopped moving. She's just lying there, looking at the sky turn from yellow and orange hues to a dusty gray. I close my book quickly, hearing the binding protest my shutting it so fast. It's a brand new book about swashbuckling pirates. I never seem to get enough of those stories.

Meenah is looking at me now – I guess I closed the book too loudly and the noise caught her attention. I smile a soundless "hello" at her, to which she responds back with mute gusto. Her toothy grin sends my head to the clouds. It's clear enough that I can still think, of course, but it's always a shock that her grin matches her persona so well. Sharp, shark-like teeth and the way her eyes crinkle slightly more on one side than the other when it is a truly happy smile. It's adorable. My heart catches in my throat and I look away, hoping I'm not blushing and that, if I did, she didn't catch it. It's the little things like that that get me. There are plenty of flowers under the cork screw tree to distract me. I pick up one on my side, the other arm lying listlessly closer to Meenah, as petals fall to the ground, swaying in the air before noiselessly placing themselves in the grass. The sun has laid itself completely beneath the horizon now, the moon taking over its solemn duties upon the sun's departure.

There's a small, but noticeable touch against the hand that's nearby Meenah. It's the faint in and out touch reminiscent of a bug. Maybe it's an ant. While I do not dislike bugs, I do dislike when they crawl on me. I stifle the urge to shake it off right away, and check to see if an insect is really there. To my utter surprise, it's really Meenah's small pinky. She has tiny hands for a girl who constantly gets into fist fights. Her face is now turned away from me, but her fingers are inching closer to my hand. Suffice to say, I have no idea what she's doing. My hand stiffens slightly, and she takes back her own for a second. But it's not long before one of her fingers is back on me. She hooks it around one of my fingers; it's cool but clammy at the same time. What is she even doing? I'm obviously blushing by now; she's not looking, so it's okay. Alright, Serket. It's time for some deductive skills. Why is she doing this? This first hope that comes to my mind I shake away, because while it is a slim possibility, that's just it. It's slim. Her loving me the same way I love her is simply out of the question. Maybe she's looking for some heat since her hands are so cool. Her dark skin against my pale flesh is a stark contrast that, for some reason, makes my heart pump faster when I look at it. Her skin against mine…it's nice. I want to say something – anything. Yet, my words are so discombobulated in my own head – words are forming, echoing – joining each other in sentences that don't even make sense at all. My head is spinning out of control – this isn't making me feel particularly pleasant. Maybe I should enjoy what's going on here – instead of questioning it so much.

Yes, actually, that sounds like a good plan. Better than getting dizzy and having to let go of her hand, at least.

Meenah's hand warms up soon, after her whole hand intertwines with my own, and mine gets a little sweaty, but she doesn't let go. I could sit here a thousand hours doing this, oddly. It's quiet. Not a word is said between us for the next half hour, in all reality. It doesn't sound fun; however, it's probably the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. Her face is looking up toward the stars in the sky. I catch her peeking at me sometimes, and I'll smile, then she'll look back up, the corner of her mouth upturning slightly. I wonder what she's thinking. I always do. I wish she would tell me what's on her mind. Right now it doesn't matter, I guess. It's just us here. Her and me, side by side. I'm not hers. She's not mine. But it's fine to pass the time like this, I think. I know it's weird that I don't want to talk. For once, though?

I'll take the quiet.


	2. Meenah

It's been a half hour already, Meenah.

It's been a half hour of watching her from the corner of your eye – a half an hour of her simply holding your hand as you see her skin glow in the moon light. She's cod awful pale. Compared to your darks tones, the contrast is striking. Yet, it's the differences between you two that you like. Sorta. You said you got this. And you're glubbin' it up. She hasn't taken her hand away. She obviously digs you too. …Right? Where's your usual bold faced attitude? Be blunt. It's your thing, remember?

"Serket." You finally manage – it comes out as this sort of nasally half grunt by accident.

Aranea turns her gaze toward you, tilting her head in order to look you in the eye. Her eyes are the best kind of Cerulean – the kind that you can see in the ocean. You hate looking at them 'cause you get lost in them and you never want her to catch you staring. But this time, no. This time calls for it. Your other hand is on the nape of your neck. Her voice, silky smooth – great for story tellin' – invading your ear and in a millisecond you're like a fish taken out of water, floundering this way and that in your addled head. You don't know if you should do this. Risk ruining the friendship by some off chance she doesn't like you back, or take the chance to be able to love her down and spoil her. You love risks. It's such a krill and the adrenaline rush is amazing when you win out. But this is different. Totally different. You've already said something, so. You've gotta do it. There's no turning back.

"Yes, Meenah?"

You gulp hard, trying not to let it be too audible.

"Girlfronds?"

She looks at you with an expression of confusion. You didn't even use a complete sentence. The fuck, Meenah? How English? Back your shit up – try again. Make it seem like you purposely did it – yeah, that should work.

"You and me. Girlfronds?"

Her face subtly changes – slowly at first, as if taking it in one second at a time. Aranea's eyebrows scrunch together. She's thinking. That's cool; you suppose everyone needs to take a second to think about this kinda thing. Seconds turn to a minute. A minute turns into a few. The silence, as wonderful as it was before, is awkward. She's not looking you in the eye anymore. Her face is red, even in the dark. Is that even a good sign? You don't know. This sucks. This sucks hardcore. Can't she just answer you al –

"Why?"

You blink once. Twice. She glances at you briefly before turning her head downward, gaze back to the grass. Why? You hadn't really thought about it. It's just a thing. You like her. Simple as that. Most people would be surprised you like anyone romantically. Most assume you're in love with gold. They aren't wrong about that, of course. Gold's the shit. Hack it for hella dough. People buy fake gold so easily, bunch of suckas. You're drifting though, and Aranea's still waiting for an answer. What can you even say?

"'Cause I do? C'mon, Serket."

She sighs.

"Why would you like someone like me? It's somewhat understandable for someone like me to fall for you, as it is the age old 'the nerd falls for the bad girl' or something of the like. I know you're 'all about the thug life' and all, and though I don't approve of it so much I still happen to like you –"

You perk up, sitting upright as fast as humanly possible. A grin forms on your features before you're fully aware of it. You bounce in place a little bit, unable to contain yourself.

"So you do like me!"

Aranea seemingly stops mid thought. She offers a smile. You could practically walk on water. Fuck, the glub can't handle you right now – even if they tried.

"Yes, I suppose I do. But it doesn't change my question."

You give her a somewhat serious look, still reeling but sobering up. How can you explain how you feel around her? You don't think you could do it properly, being you and all. It's the way she holds herself, you suppose. She may talk incessantly to the point of literally wanting to tape her mouth shut, but then it just leads to thoughts about her mouth taped up for other reasons. And that confused the shit out of you at first. Every time she's absent from school it's boring. After she came into your life, nothing was really the same – having someone nag on you constantly dolphinately sucks. But it's sorta…endearing?

"I ain't doing this for the halibut." Is all you can come up with. You add as big a smile as you can muster, inching closer to her.

"Just say yes. You know you wanna."

A smirk tugs at Aranea's lips – you can see it. But she's holding back. She's thinking too much, you know it. You wanna shake her, tell her "stop it and kiss me already". Her lips look absolutely tantalizing. A soft pink – she's not wearing lipstick today. Perfectly kissable.

Meenah, be Nike.

Just do it.

Leaning in, you place your lips against hers, shutting your eyes and hoping for the best. Her lips are nice, albeit a tiny bit chapped. Yours are too, probably. It's a couple of moments of stillness, just staying in that position. Was this this the wrong deseasion? Perhaps you just pushed her into saying no. Just great! Just fan-fuckin'-tastic! You pull your lips back from Aranea's all of a finger's width. You want to mutter a sorry, but that ain't your style and you know it. Aranea's eyes are still closed. You pull back more and wait until she opens them. You think you should want to cry, but again, that ain't your style. So you won't. When her eyelids flutter open, she won't look at you. That's probs your fault. Good greef. She opens her mouth to speak after a while of just sitting there.

"I'm sorry."

You sigh, and motion to get up. What is she apologizing for? Whatever. Doesn't matter.

"S'ok, Serket. I'll see you around."

You're almost up off the ground when she tugs at your sleeve. She's flustered – seems like panicking, almost.

"No, wait! I know I really stink at kissing – I have no idea what to do. I've never done it before and I was thinking too much –"

Wait. She what? It's dawns on you, inching and creeping into your brain – she isn't denying you. She's just nervous! All of a sudden, the grass is in your face, making you itch, but you don't care because you're laughing so hard your stomach hurts; breathing is the last thing that you can do right now; you're literally tearing. You wipe your eye with a hand after you stop rolling around, calming down. Aranea's face is puffed up, giving you a stern look. You chuckle more while you speak.

"Is that seriously it, Serket?"

She puffs her cheeks out more. She's like a fugu fish – adorable. You grin at her.

"Stop thinking. Just move your lips."

"I don't know –"

"Trust me, all ya gotta do is feel it out. Feel me?"

Is that an invitation or just a phrase at this point? You don't know, nor do you care. You lift your arms up and gently put your hands on the sides of Aranea's face. You direct her downward as you lean forward, until she's a hair's breadth away from your lips with her own. She still looks hesitant. Her pupils are dilated. You're waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. This is taking way too long for you. But you're being patient 'cause it's her. It's worth it. When she finally puts her lips on yours, it's a relief.

Your shoulders place themselves back on the ground, as well as your head, when she tentatively puts some strength into the kiss. You let her do most of the movement, letting her explore and find her own pace as your lips move to match hers, mimicking her. She's not bad, but she's not good either – and that's okay. It doesn't matter to you. She's relaxing, melting into it. As Aranea gets to know you, she'll learn what works with you and what doesn't. For now though, you'll let her be. She pulls away, out of breath, an accomplished grin on her face. It's pretty goofy on her. So you laugh. Pffft. Look, it's the huffy face again, but a smile is attempting to crack and all of a sudden she's laughing with you. It's great; fintastic, even. Companionable silence comes back; she lays her head on your shoulder, putting her weight on you. She's not as heavy as you thought she'd be. The stars shine brightly, and the moon illuminates her skin, like she's shining for you. It's time to go. You know it, but you don't want this to end. Soon, you open your mouth to ask "When can we do this again?" when she happens to say "When can I see you again?" You smirk unabashedly. You ask her where she wants to go. She starts rambling about all the places you could go together in such an excited manner as she lifts her head off her shoulders to look you in the eye, barely ever breaking contact. Yet, you stop listening, so you can just listen to the tone of her voice and the way it sounds.

"How about my house, Serket? Read me a story or two. Make it about pirates."

"That sounds like a good idea. It would be nice; In fact, I should pick out a book after we leave –"

"You have to get offa me so we can leave, yanno."

Aranea's face becomes flushed. She doesn't exactly rush to get off of you. She does it with a little pout, too. You just wanna cuttle her some more, but instead you stand. When you finish dusting off, she extends her hand out toward you. Of course you take it without a second thought. You're offishally with Serket. Your stomach does a little flip at the reminder. You've been waiting for this for a long time. Your impatience may get en the best of you, one day. Life's too short to take it slow.

But maybe, for her, you just might.


End file.
